Having thus far briefly explained the rationale of the Orders with regard to the division of them into three leading _classes_, each of which, distinct from the other two, yet comprises many varieties or _species_,—which, however much they may differ with respect to minor distinctions, all evidently belong to one and the same style, or what we call Order,—we have now to consider their constituent parts, that is, those which apply to every Order alike. Hitherto it has been usual with most writers to treat of an Order as consisting of three principal parts or divisions, viz. pedestal, column, and entablature. The first of these, however, cannot by any means be regarded as an integral part of an Order. So far from being an essential, it is only an _accidental_ one,—one, moreover, of Roman invention, and applicable only under particular circumstances. The pedestal no more belongs to an Order than an attic or _podium_ placed above the entablature. In the idea of an Order we do not include what is extraneous to the Order itself: it makes no difference whether the columns stand immediately upon the ground or floor, or are raised above it. They almost invariably are so raised, because, were the columns to stand immediately upon the ground or a mere pavement, the effect would be comparatively mean and unsatisfactory; the edifice would hardly seem to stand firmly, and, for want of apparent footing, would look as if it had sunk into the ground, or the soil had accumulated around it. With the view, therefore, of increasing height for the whole structure, and otherwise enhancing its effect, the Greeks placed their temples upon a bold substructure, composed of _gradini_ or deep steps, or upon some sort of continuous _stylobate_; either of which modes is altogether different from, and affords no _precedent_ for, the pedestal of modern writers. And here it may be remarked, that of the dignity imparted to a portico by a stylobate forming an ascent up to it in front, we have a fine example in that of St. George’s Church, Bloomsbury, which so far imitates the celebrated Maison Carrée at Nismes. Nevertheless, essential as some sort of stylobate is to the edifice itself, it does not properly belong to it, any more than that equally essential—in fact more indispensable part—the roof.